


Cracks in the Facade

by mitslits



Series: Prompts [56]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11077827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: For a prompt, maybe Eggsy and Harry have a domestic dispute/fight? I love to suffer from angst





	Cracks in the Facade

Habits form fault lines in their relationship, tiny seams too small to see at first but growing, widening into canyons without either of them noticing. 

Harry comes home with a few more gray hairs each year. Age creeps up his body like ivy, etching lines into his face, grinding bone against bone and causing interminable aches. Harry says nothing. 

Eggsy pretends not to notice, for Harry’s sake. Resentment simmers beneath his skin. 

It stays there, burning, for weeks, months, before it spills over. They’re making breakfast, Eggsy working on pancakes, Harry cracking eggs. 

Harry reaches for one and wraps his hand around it. With a muffled curse, he drops it, flexing his fingers as the egg spatters on the floor. 

“Christ, Harry!” Eggsy snaps as bits of yolk and eggshell land on his ankle. 

Harry raises one eyebrow as he massages his hand. “A bit of an overreaction, don’t you think? It’s just one egg.” 

That does it. Eggsy slams the mixing bowl down on the counter, pancake batter slopping over the edges. “No, it ain’t. Cause it ain’t just this mornin’, is it? It’s the way you don’t fold up your glasses no more, or wince when you gotta hold a pen or take off your shoes or open a fuckin’ bottle of aspirin. Did you really think I wasn’t gonna notice?”

Harry’s eyes narrow, and he stops massaging his hand. “I have everything under control,” he says, and there is steel in his voice, the kind of tone that doubles as warning. 

“Like you had that egg, yeah? Go on then, clean it up. Hands and knees on the floor.” Eggsy folds his arms over his chest, jaw jutted out in stubborn challenge.

Sighing, Harry shakes his head. “Really, Eggsy, I think you’re being overdramatic. A mop will work just as well.” 

“Yeah, but that ain’t the point, is it?” Eggsy grits out. 

Harry loses the tenuous hold he’d had on his temper, slams his hand on the counter hard enough to rattle the mixing bowl. “Then what _is_ your point, Eggsy?”

Eggsy jumps slightly when Harry’s hand lands with a loud bang, but he forces himself back into composure. “The point is,” he starts, and he hates the way his voice shakes, “that you don’t trust me enough to tell me when you’re hurtin’.” 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Eggsy, this isn’t about you,” Harry snaps. “It’s about-” 

“ _You?_ ” Eggsy cuts him off, voice sharp with righteous indignation. 

Harry looks away, fingers tapping on the countertop. 

“The thing about a relationship, Harry, is that problems ain’t supposed to be you and me,” Eggsy says. “They’re supposed to be dealt with as a _we_ , an _us_.” He reaches out to cover Harry’s hand in his own. “Talk to me, let me help when you need it. Please.” 

There’s a long, heavy silence before Harry hangs his head, eyes squeezed shut. “I told you. I have everything under control.” He withdraws his hand from Eggsy’s and lets out a breath. “I’m going to get a mop.” 

“Harry…” Eggsy reaches out for him, but Harry doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t even look back. 


End file.
